


Don't Panic!

by orphan_account



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Gen, Revenge, School Shootings, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-27 15:47:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1716065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard is annoyed by the loud nature of people and finds a way to silence them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Panic!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry

I reached the stairwell three and a half minutes before the bell rang. This particular hall had no windows and only two doors. The students would walk in one way and out the other--they'd be trapped if one the one at the far end was locked, and the other shut after they got inside. No one would be able to get in, no one out.

So I locked one, looping chains and combination locks around the dual handles--there really was no point in bothering with the deadbolt, the teachers all had keys for them, but I locked them anyway. After blockading one door, I stood outside the other, holding it open. I counted in my head--twenty seconds left.

After counting down, the bell rang, and students started piling out of the two doors and into the stairwell. They were too immersed in their conversations to notice me holding the door open.

Once the eleven of them were inside and starting to realize that they had no means of exit, I shut the door and closed the locks.

From my bag I pulled a loaded revolver and cocked it, smiling, and aiming.

The students started screaming and trying to undo the locks.

Of course they failed.

There were teachers running to the stairwell now, taking notice to the screams. Probably expecting a fight. I knew they wouldn't get in in time, so I didn't bother with trying to reinforce the doors with anything more than locks. By the time they heard the first gunshot it was too late.

Whenever I heard the phrase, "Don't panic!" yelled from outside the doors to the students attempting to escape from the crazy loner wielding a gun, I couldn't help but cringe. Why, why would you tell them to not panic? That's so stupid, _you_ would be panicking if someone was holding a gun to _your_ head, threatening to shoot you.

On hearing a scream, I inhaled, lifted the gun and pulled the trigger again, watching as it went through the chest of a little punk kid, who I could tell wasn't frightened at all with the current happenings. He had the idea in his head for months now--to put a bullet in his head, to end it all. It's why he wasn't hiding away, just standing around, unafraid and calm. It's a shame actually, I sort of liked that kid. He was the only other person in this school who actually used his head, so of course, his thoughts mirrored mine.

After thinking that out I shrugged and continued down the steps, to the end where five students were cornered. Ha, hiding behind each other. Trying to save themselves. Of the ones in the front, some where crying, some cowering, some trying to make their way to the back. Once again, I lifted my arm to shoot.

I noticed the behavior of the live ones. Hiding behind each other. Crying. I sighed, and sing-songed, "Oh, look at you all! Cowering behind each completely willing to sacrifice another for your own life, but, no worries," I cocked the gun before smiling, rolling my eyes and saying, "You're all gonna die nonetheless." I chuckled at my need to be dramatic. I think they took it the wrong way though, because most whimpered. The thought, "Oh, he's a psychopath," probably crossed their minds. It's not very surprising.

I started at the end, with a freshman named Ray. His head exploded when the bullet reached his forehead, causing blood and brains to spew onto the people around him. One girl screamed, causing every. other. person. to scream as loudly as they could.

"From how close I am it's not gonna hurt!" I yelled for them to shut the fuck up, as they were getting on my nerves, and shot the girl who had started screaming in the first place. I'm pretty sure her name was Jamia.

Now people were whimpering loudly, some sobbing quietly, and one, still screaming. I shot him to shut him up. I don't like loud people.

I could hear sirens in the distance, getting louder and louder with each passing second. I laughed, then went down the line of students, shooting each in the head once. I needed to get this done quickly.

Although I was silent on my own, all the other sounds combined were almost overwhelming: sirens, shouts, pounding on doors. They were just so loud, and I couldn't wait until they would all be silenced. Thankfully, that would be only a matter of minutes.

I leaned down and soaked my fingers in the blood of a small girl, and walked to the wall. I started my note, adding letters one by one. After walking back and forth eight times, I was done. So I stepped back and admired my work. _I've accomplished something,_ I thought. _My best work of art._  

Their bodies were lifeless and convered in blood. They lined the steps, and the walls were painted red with their blood. It was indeed my best work of art.

But the sirens were now painfully loud.

And I couldn't admire for long, as the door was being beat down.

I didn't like the idea of someone else determining my fate.

So, I aimed the gun to my right temple, and pulled the trigger.

Forever silencing their noise.

* * *

Although the message had since been erased, the entire police department spent months trying to decifer the message written on the walls of Belleville High School's secondary stairwell.

They never understood what the sick bastard meant by, "Ideas never die." 


End file.
